Should've Tried Harder
by RoseBelikov'at'Nyx.Vamp
Summary: Kurt leaves Dalton after a break-up, and winds up pulling over on the side of a road in tears. Anyone coming to comfort him? Bad summary... Enjoy  Hopefully  x
1. Chapter 1

**This is an idea that had been knocking around in my head since i was on a Hey Monday kick (I've known and liked them waaaaaaaay before Kurt and Blaine did candles and i have all their songs, including the Mini-Album that isn't on ITunes -.-) and i wrote the first bit and then got distracted by my other fic, Falling For You. So, i've done finished the first chapter and here it is. I think this will be a three-shot and possilbe epilogue, because i can't handle another multi-chapter on the go at the moment :)**

**Speaking of Blaine, yes i know he isn't like this. He is a lovely character and Darren Chris is, i'm sure, a great person. (Lack of chemistry with Kurt aside, i really do think he's nice). So i apologise for the way he is portrayed to those who actively ship Klaine, but it was necessary.**

**Anyway, i hope you enjoy :D**

**Over and out x**

* * *

><p>"You've got to be kidding me?" Kurt stared incredulously at his boyfriend, arms crossed over his chest as he tried to restrain himself and not shout for the whole of Dalton to hear.<p>

"You treat me like dirt, always thinking about yourself and never about what I might want or need! I'm expected to pander to your whims and trail around after you like a little ball boy, picking up your stuff and clearing up your mess!" He flung the harsh words at Blaine and was pleased to see the effect he had on the other teen, the Warbler starting to walk towards him with a look on his face that shouted panic.

"Kurt, c'mon, you know I love you! You mean everything to me; I never wanted to hurt you." He was using a puppy dog look that Kurt knew well, but that just meant that he knew just how fake it was. It was the way he wheedled his solos out of the other Warblers and Kurt had seen it enough times for it's dubious effect to have worn off.

Storming towards the door he tried to contain his anger at the fact the guy had the audacity to ignore him constantly, only turning to him when he wanted to feel wanted, never giving anything back. He had seen Blaine flirting with the barista at their favourite Starbucks one too many times, getting Kurt gifts of cheap cologne to try to distract him, not realising that Kurt could obviously tell the difference between designer and the real thing.

He felt a cold hand tighten around his arm and try to pull him back, and he whirled around to face his 'boyfriend'. The other was starting to look angry but was still covering it up with a mask of hurt.

"Kurt really, you've gotta believe me, I need you to stay!"

Forgetting all about his decision to keep quiet and not gain attention from their schoolmates he took as step towards Blaine and leaned into his face. His eyebrows rose as he saw the look of hope in his eyes, and he found himself shouting in the taller boy's face.

"I don't CARE! I'm not playing ball boy any longer _Batman,_"he practically sneered, "I've screwed that 'On-your-arm' perfect boyfriend posture for my Alexander McQueen and Marc Jacobs couture, I'm taller, harder, stronger, older, and I don't need YOU!"

Trying not to think about the fact that he really had to stop paying so much attention in his english classes*, he wrenched his arm from Blaine's grip and slammed the door open, ignoring the startled glances and shocked looks as he forced people out of the way to get along the corridor. He wanted nothing more at that moment that just to get away from the guy he'd thought he would fall in love with, spend the rest of his life with, and who'd turned out to be nothing but a poser and a phoney.

He could hear footsteps following him down the now silent corridor and he threw his hands into the air as he turned around, the glare on his face enough to freeze Blaine in his tracks, his mouth open as if he wanted to say something.

Kurt wondered what he'd ever seen in him as Blaine fumbled around for the right words to say, or what he _thought_ were the right words to stop Kurt from turning on his heel and walking out the building.

"You think you're so perfect, don't you, all charm and suaveness, but you just don't get it! You plan your relationship around what's great for you, always so self-absorbed and narcissistic, but guess what? I know your type!"

He had meant to speak the words of the song he had in his head, but in his anger and need to show Blaine just how he felt he heard himself breaking into the melody. At the smattering of secretive smile on the faces of those in the Warblers who were often left out and had the _insane_ pleasure of swaying at the back while Blaine sang, Kurt decided that if he had started singing he was damn well going to carry on singing.

_Some think that they deserve more  
>Give a little, like it's become a chore<br>Don't demand things, walk yourself out the door_

He waved a hand at Blaine, indicating the door to his left as he walked towards him, giving him a scathing look as he stopped about two feet from him, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes.

_I fell flat on my face too many times  
>Left with nothing but some cheap perfume<br>Now you cry  
>Now you need me<br>Now that perfume's not cheap  
>But i told you<em>

"Catch!" He threw the box of cologne Blain had given him before their confrontation had started back at him, and watched as he fumbled it, his eyes still locked on Kurt. It fell to the floor and Kurt stifled a wince as the glass inside smashed and the liquid started to pool on the floor at Blaine's feet.

_If you wanted to be my only one_  
><em>If you wanted to see this happen<em>  
><em>Maybe you, you should've tried harder<em>  
><em>If you thought i would leap into your arms,<em>  
><em>everytime i would see your face<em>  
><em>Then maybe you, you should've tried harder<em>

He was backing away from Blaine now, retreating towards the exit but never moving his glare from Blaine's face putting all his anger and frustration into the words as his fellow students shrank back into the classroom doorways when he passed.

_Go on, prove it_  
><em>I'd love to see you try<em>  
><em>Convince me that you gave me the world<em>  
><em>I tried and tried but you never opened your eyes<em>  
><em>You stand tall like you've won some kind of award<em>  
><em>But really, i've never seen someone so short<em>  
><em>You'd look taller, if you gave me some more<em>  
><em>But i told you<em>

He was almost at the doors now, his voice echoing perfectly around the corridors and spreaing out of the doors and into the courtyard outside, still teeming with students that hadn't heard his frustration and heartbreak yet.

_If you wanted to be my only one_  
><em>If you wanted to see this happen<em>  
><em>Maybe you, you should've tried harder<em>  
><em>If you thought i would leap into your arms,<em>

_Everytime i would see your face  
>Then maybe you, you should've tried harder<em>

_Some think that they deserve more_  
><em>Give a little bit<em>

Blaine had followed him out the doors, running a little to catch up with him, and by the time he was at the parking lot he could practically feel the other teen reaching out o him from behind.

"Don't touch me!" He spat, no remorse in his eyes as he saw that the rejection was gone from Blaine's instead replaced with fury.

"How dare you do this to me? In front of everyone? You're just friggin' jelous that other guys flirt with me when we're out!"

That was it. That right there was his limit. He slapped Blaine across the face without a second thought and finished his song in a loud and _very_ angry voice as the taller teen reeled backwards with a hand pressed to his face.

_If you wanted to be my only one_  
><em>If you wanted to see this happen<em>  
><em>Maybe you, you should've tried harder<em>  
><em>If you thought i would leap into your arms,<em>  
><em>everytime i would see your face<em>  
><em>Then maybe you, you should've tried harder.<em>

He got into his car and, making sure to slam the door, put his music on loud as he sped away from what he had thought was his perfect new beginning at Dalton.

* * *

><p>Sam was heading to a vegan delicatessen outside of Lima to pick some tofu up for his mom when he saw a black car pulled up at the side of the road with it's headlights on but seemingly no one inside it. He pulled over and walked towards the car, realising as he did that it looked very similar to Kurt's Navigator.<p>

He slowly made is way round to the drivers side, looking in the windows and trying to discern whether there was anyone inside. He couldn't see much because of the harsh sunlight coming from behind him, so he decided to check around the rest of the truck, checking the soil around it for footprints as he went.

When he turned the corner of the car and found himself in front of a sparkling back window he had a sinking feeling that the car was definitely Kurt's. He didn't know anyone else who's car would be so clean, especially not anyone with a Navigator. Checking the registration plate quickly he groaned on the inside as the digits of the numberplate he had seen Kurt wipe graffiti off a thousand times shone back at him.

When his check around the rest of the car was complete he knew for certain that Kurt must still be in the car, because there were no footsteps anywhere but the ones he had made himself, meaning no one had got out.

Cupping his hands to the drivers side window again he peered into the black leather interior and was hlf disapointed and half pleased when he didn't see Kurt collapsed on the front seat, a heart attack having been one of the many worries that had danced around Sam's head.

However, as he was turning away he heard a muffled sound from inside the car.

"Why? Why did i... hate him so... his... him..."

Gripping the door handle and hoping with all his heart that it wasn't locked, Sam pulled, and to his immense surprise it clicked and swung open at his touch. He opened it wider and looked inside, only to be horrified by what he saw. Kurt was sitting scrunched up in the footwell below the steering wheel, with his knees bent up to his chest and his hands clasped around them.

And he was crying.

Kurt was torn out of his semi-hysterical trance as he felt a cold whoosh of air and his vision was invaded by piercing tendrils of sunlight, signalling the opening of his car door.

He looked up, trying to see who it was and hoping that it was someone he knew, one of his friends. But he couldn't see anything but a sillouhette because of the bright light that was hurting his eyes, and for one terrible moment he thought that it was one of the football jocks, Karofsky or Aizmio, or a stranger who would probably be just as hostile.

But then the figure shut the door with a click and stopped blocking the sunlight, disapearing from the window. Kurt thought he was going to be left in peace to obsess over how stupid and naïve he had been, and how Blaine had been able to manipulate him so easily. Damn he was stupid!

However, the passenger door opened a few moments after his had shut and the figure slid inside his precious car, pulling the door closed softly and leaning down towards him with an unreadable expression on his face. With a start he realised that it was Sam Evans. _Oh Gaga no! He can't see me like this! No one should see me like this, pull yourself together Kurt!"_

Sam looked at the smaler boy and didn't know what to think. Sure, he had red rimmed eyes from crying, and his hair had become rumpled when he had slid under the steeringwheel, but Sam could hardly tell the difference. He still thought Kurt looked beautiful, far too perfect to be real, and he was bawling his eyes out and snotting everywhere.

Offering a hand to Kurt he nearly laughed at the stunned expression on the smaller boy's face.

"It's only a hand. It won't bite. Just thought you might be more comfortable on an actual seat."

"I prefer it down here. It's darker."

Kurt shivered after he had spoken and tried not to react any more that he already had to the fact that super sexy Sam Evans was in his car, offering him his hand and talking to him. Well, Blaine Anderson, eat your heart out. Not that it meant anything, but Kurt could dream.

Sam rolled his eyes at what he percieved as Kurt's stubbornness and stretched his hand out further towards him, leaning slightly to get a better reach. When the brunette made no move he sighed and grasped the soprano's fingers, peeling them away from his shapely legs and holding them firmly in his grasp as he pulled Kurt up from under the seat and, taking his waist in his hands, forcibly but carefully placed him on the drvers seat.

I don't care if it's dark and comfortable, it's probably not good for you."

Kurt smiled ever so slighty at his comment, saying "Of course, all the leading studies show..."

"That hiding in foorwells of cars at the side of the road isn't sane _or_ comfortable? I thought that's what the four out of five dentists were there for." He added in mock seriousness, lightening the tangible mood in the car ever so slightly.

As Kurt's slight laughter died down he smiled at the brunette, but then realised the reason for their situation and grew serious again.

"Kurt? Um, why _were_ you sat under the wheel of your car at the side of the road?" He's honestly curious to get his answer, but nothing prepares him for the one he recieves.

"Oh... well, i... I b-broke up with Blaine today." Kurt stammered out, only just managing to regain his composure as he talked.

This shouldn't be happening. He wasn't even upset, he was angry. Furious in fact, his tears had been those of frustration, meaningless and pointless, but somehow needed all the more.

Sam could only sit shocked as Kurt dabbed daintily at his eyes with a tissue again, sniffling slightly and then squaring his jaw and raising his head up higher. Common behaviour, Sam realised, from someone who was used to putting a mask on daily, hiding behind his attitude so as not to show anything, any emotion, that would get him into 'trouble'.

"Do you want to talk about it? Tell me what happened? I'm a good listener you know."

He spoke softly as he slid an arm around Kurt's shaking shoulder, trying to comfort but not alarm him, as he didn't think that would help one bit.

Kurt looked up into Sam's face as the older boy draped an arm around his shoulders, and immediately felt less sad. This, though, left room for more anger.

"I just hate him so much!" He said, his voice seething with so much loathing it was scary, even to Kurt.

"He was so perfect, and everything was going right, a new start and a new place, clean slate and all that cliché crap. Then he comes along and yeah, I had to wait a while, but we seemed to be in a perfect relationship those first few weeks." Kurt said, the sadness invading again for a fraction of a second.

"And then what?" Sam probed gently, sliding the sobbing boy onto his knee on the passenger seat so he could put his legs up and immediately feeling him tense up.

"Relax Kurt, I'm just going to sit and listen and try to help you out."

Kurt looked up at him, still startled from his shift in positions, and smiled timidly, carrying on his story.

"And then he started to get ever so slightly more distant every time we talked or kissed or anything. He still acted the perfect boyfriend, but I was becoming a mere possession to him, something he could play with when he felt like and then just leave on the nursery floor when he couldn't be bothered or had something better to do. I guess all the signs were there, it's my fault for not recognising it sooner." His voice broke a tiny bit at the end of the sentence, and he was greatly thankful for the firm yet gentle hand pressing into his back, rubbing comforting circles into it.

Sam could hardly think of the words to say, he so badly wanted to hit something, preferably the stupid curly haired hobbit whose fault it was that someone so trusting and perfect was sitting crumpled and broken and sobbing in his car, miles from anywhere. Definately said hobbit. Hopefully his face.

"Just so you know, it sounds horrible, what this guy did to you, and no one should have to be used and patronised like that." Sam said, small smile hesitant on his lips as he looked at the tiny boy in his arms.

He twisted his neck so he could look up, saying "Thank you Sam. You don't know what it means to me that you're listening and not butting in, just letting me get this off my chest."

"No problem Kurt, carry on. I don't mind" This time he does smile, a tiny, tentative one that somehow makes Kurt smile too, and it was something magical when he revealed dimples and a few perfectly shaped pearly white teeth.

Kurt looked up at the boy who he hadn't really even spoken to properly sincde he had released him from their duet partership and wondered why on earth he was being so kind. But as he said, he really needed to talk about it. And he couldn't think of anyone else who he'd rather tell it to, save Mercedes, and she was on holiday in Crete for two weeks.

He leaned his head back against Sam's chest with his cheek pressed against the rough fabric of his shirt and closed his eyes again, wondering how the hell he had ended up in that situation. But he couldn't really tell the girls, because they'd pretend to listen and then ply him with ice cream, which was a nightmare for his thighs, not to mention he'd have to double his exfoliation routine to combat the extra oils it would produce, putting on some cheesy movie because it should soothe him. Any of the other guys would have been even worse, they flinched if he touched them anywhere when they didn't expect it and were nervous around him as if they were going to 'catch the gay'. They were nice, and polite, and pretty considerate, but they would have been so uncomfortable talking about the breakdown of his _gay _relatonship that he didn't think he could have stood it. Even Finn wouldn't have been much good, even thought he'd been trying recently.

Yet here was Sam, comfortable as ever, talking him through it like he had nowhere else better in the world to be.

"I know you don't really mean that Sam," He said dejectedly, "You can go if you want. I'll be alright."

Staring at the petite boy, hunched in his lap with his delicate cheek pressed against him, like he was mad, he sighed, saying "I do mean it. You need to get this out, you said so yourself, and I want to listen. So please, just give it up and tell me. It won't do you any good to repress it and keep it bottled up."

He secretly thanked God or Allah or Budda or whatever deity happened to be listening that Kurt didn't disagree, as he started to speak, in barely more tan a whisper.

"Well I probably knew right from the start, subconsciously, that the emotional side of things was off kilter, something just wasn't quite right with the - with _whatever_- we had between us. But after a bit there were more physical, noticable things that should have clued me in. He started to buy me little gifts, and then you think, 'Oh, he loves me, he's just showing his appreciation and devotion'. He started out with flowers and then he was buying me cologne, and things, which was great except that I had one of my own that I always used, and I thought he knew it. I took me a while to figure out that they were all cheap, nasty knock-off's. He hadn't spent money on me at all." Kurt sighed, wrapping his arms around Sam's chest without even realising.

Sam was definitely going to punch the stupid Bland kid when he saw him. He ouldn't concieve why anyone would manage to snare someone as perfect and kind and loving and commited as Kurt Hummel and then let him slip through his fingers by being such a douche that Kurt broke up with _him_.

Knowing he had to try and subtly persuade Kurt to reveal the rest of his anguish he said "I know that cheap knock-off's are horrific, and the guy should, by all accounts, be buying you a three litre bottle of Channel No. 5 if they're in direct proportion to your awesomeness," At that Kurt blushed such a delicious deep pike that Sam felt his heart pounding in his chest, and he wa sure Kurt could too, "but is that really a reason to break up with him?"

Kurt could tell by his tone of voice that he wasn't having a dig or trying to mock him, that he was genuinly interested in the answer. So he kept his eyes closed but took the plunge, deciding to go for broke and just spill everything out onto the leather interior of his baby.

"It wasn't just that, it was the way he was using them to try and bribe me. We would see guys in shops and he would continuously flirt with everyone, well, all the guys. At first I ignored it, but it got to me, you know? Slowly chipping away at my confidence, bit by bit, destroying my self-esteem, because whose boyfriend flirts with other people when they're stood right next to them? But the final straw was when he came home smelling of the fragrance he had bestowed upon me the night before, obviously being vain enough to think that I would instantly wear it and that he would be safe. But I liked my old stuff, I'd never taken to wearing whatever tack thing he'd bought me. So I could tell when he walked in the room that he'd been with someone else. Maybe for a chat, maybe a date, I don't know, but he had to have been near enough to have picked up the scent, and that would be pretty close."

Sam couldn't believe his ears.

Activel venting his frustration he warned "I'm going to get him Kurt. He's gonna wish he'd never ever even been born, because he doesn't deserve to live if he would even consider cheating on someone as great as you."

Kurt had no idea where Sam's sudden protective side had come from but something inside i'm seemed to like it a lot. And he liked the idea that he thought he was great.

Sure, he knew that there was no real hope for him and hell, he'd only just broken up with Blaine for God's sake, but as he was starting to notice Sam's great abs and his steady, soothing heartbeat inside the wonderful chest he realised that he may or may not have one huge-ass crudh on Sam Evans.

"Thank you Sam. But yeah, he did. I don't know how many times, it might have been just that night, but it wasn't the only thing wrong. Even if he hadn't cheated on me and I've somehow (unlikelyly) ended up with the wrong impression, he's spent these last few weeks treating me as his personal slave, getting things, moving things, helping him style is hair, just for one grand entrance. I'd got sick and tired of being taken for granted, and I couldn't take it any more when he would kiss me when we were out and it was expected, but then ignore me whenever we were back at the dorms or singing or even talking."

He knew he was rambling. He knew it. But he didn't care, because it didn't bother him. It didn't bother him because apparently id didn't bother Sam. He paused for breath, trying to remember where he had been going, and then slouched a bit more in Sam's arms - wait, in Sam's arms? He had realised he had wrapped his arms around Sam, but he had no memories of the tall, muscular blond moving his arms around him so that they met in the middle, each hand clasped around the forearm of the other arm.

Shooing away thoughts of how wonderfully warm and solid they felt, he carried on. "I guess I just flipped, y'know? He was standing there all smug and self improtant, and I just lost it. I-i-i-I hated him! Pretending like he wasn't thinking about other people behind my back, trying to buy me off and keep me sweet, then saying he loves me when he obviously d-d-do-doesn't."

He started crying again, all the time hating himself for being so weak. He had been the strong one, telling Blaine what he thought of him, yet he couldn't act anywhere near as calm and aloof when he was sat with someone he didn't even know that well. He was breaking down all over again in front of someone he was trying to supress feelings for if his butterflies reaction was anything to go by.

"I'm so pathet-pathetic, you shouldn't have seen me like this, shouldn't have stopped and come and found me." He said, screwing his eyes up as he felt the body around him tense slightly.

Sam leant down to try and look Kurt in the eye, getting to his eye level only to find that the small soprano has squeezed his eyes tight shut and was grimacing as if in pain.

"Kurt, don't say that. Please, you are anything but pathetic. You stood up to someone who you thought you loved, who you had thougt loved you, and you settled things once and for all, instead of succumbing to the meaningless empty promised he was throwing around. It taked real strength to do that, instead of getting sucked back in, forgetting why you were annoyed in the first place." He said, stroking a hand through Kurt's soft hair as he spoke.

He hated that Kurt felt that way about himself, hated that the brave, passionate, strong Kurt he had always seen wasn't the one that the boy himself saw. Why couldn't he see what everyone else saw, the impeccability of him and the strength of characted that Sam so admired.

Kurt had finally looked up at him, Squirming around in his arms to blink his piercing blue eyes in his direction, his tears slowing even as their predecessors formed glassy tracks down his cheeks, a mirror of his face when Sam first saw it in the footwell.

"I... Thank you Sam. I sometimes forget what it means to be strong I guess. It means physicality, something I'll never have even if I try, most of the time to me. But when you put it like that... Thank you, honestly, I can't tell you enough how much that helped." Kurt said, smiling tentatively up at the blonde as he considere his words.

He was right in a lot of ways, that Kurt hadn't succumbed to the tension and temptation he had known was there when they had been arguing, hadn't fallen back into a badly flawed guy's arms just to be safe. So now it was Blaine that was sorry, and somehow Kurt couldn't bring himself to apologise for that, because the more he thought about it the more he knew, he had meant it. Every last word, he had meant it.

He blinked again at the taller blonde smiling a gentle smile down at him as he sat twisted into such an uncomfortable position, saying "You have somewhere to be don't you? Hardly anyone passes along this stretch of road any more, so you must have been doing something. I don't want to keep you when you have to be doing things, so you should probably get going."

Sam stared incredulously at the fragile looking but impossibly unbreakable boy perched on his lap and wondered what he was doing. But then it hit him, he didn't want to impose. He was so polite, so unassuming, and he felt like he was taking up Sam's time, wasting precious minutes. But in reality it was the minutes that he had spent with Kurt inside he gleaming black car that had been precious to him.

"I was only going to get some vegan ingredients from a store outta town for my mom Cara. No biggie and she's out of town, but she texted me and asked for them, so it doesn't matter how long I'm gone really." He paused for a moment before adding "You really want me to leave? Because I just don't want to leave you alone now, as, not to mention you might end up back there begging for forgiveness, no one should be alone when they break up with the anyone, let alone the person that they thought was their true love or however you viewed him." San said softly, patting Kurt's arm as he tried to reassure him.

Kurt looked away from him again, his arms staying around him but loosening significantly as he said "Sam, I'm not going to drag you down with me just because you happened to be in the right, or wrong I suppose, place at the right time okay. I won't tangle you up in all my tumultuous crap. Just... Go and get your vegan things and I'll text you after and tell you if I decide to kill myself yeah?" He joked, his small laugh somehow filling the car even though it could hardly be heard in the enclosed space.

He knew that Kurt wasn't going to give up easily, Sam could tell that he still didn't want to burden him with unneccesary pain and regret that was what came with recent break up's. Knowing in his heart that he shouldn't really leave the small soprano he sighed, because Kurt was stubborn even when he wasn't upset, and he was definitely going to be putting his foot down so as not to 'take advantage' (Sam could almost hear him saying it).

Softly closing his hands on Kurt's hands and lifting, he said "C'mon then. If you're insisting on making the journey home by yourself then you'd better get going. It's getting dark and I don't fancy you driving around on this road in the dark, with no streetlamps."

He could have sworn he had dies when those warm, soft yet firm hands rested on his hips and lifted him up, off Sam's lap. He was slowly relaxing into the touch, having tensed up at first, when he remembered the reason why he was sat in his car on the side of the highway in the first place. Blaine. His very-recently-ex-boyfriend. And here he was thinking about another guy.

His eyes popping open, he thought angrily that Blaine had no say over anything now. He shouldn't ever influence his decisions again, or invade his thoughts. So what if he was being comforted by a straight guy because of his recent break up, he could react any way he wanted, thank you very much. Nothing would happen but he didn't need to feel guilt for thinking about the niceity of someone's touch.

"That's probably a good idea. I'd better get home anyway, I told my dad I was going to be back and that I'd make him something for his dinner when he got home from the shop. He was surprised when I called, but I couldn't explain on the phone. It was too hard. That's partly the reason I ended up pulling over." He admitted, removing himself from Sam's lap and turning around so that he could see the other boy properly.

His hair was mussed up and his cheeks were red, from embarassment or the temperature Kurt didn't know, and the front of his shirt was stained darker from his salty tears as they had washed their was in rivulets down his face and soaked one by one into Sam's chest.

Sam looked down, for Kurt was still smaller than him, and watched as he studied not his face or his own feet, but Sam's chest, with something akin to upset.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin you shirt, i'll get it dry cleaned, or I'll wash it, or I could buy you a new one or..." His voice trailed off as he saw the incredulous look the taller blond was giving him.

"Kurt, you were upset and I was helping you out, I'm not angry and I definitely don't blame you! I can wash the damn thing at home, I don't care about it." He smiled down reassuringly at Kurt, trying not to notice how the messy hair and big doe eyes made Kurt look undeniably cute, in a whole other league to puppies.

Kurt blinked again and then said "Oh, well, i... It'll be okay then..."

Sam just messed up his hair even more, running a hand through it just to secretly feel how soft it was, and then slid over to the passenger seat, untangling himself completely from Kurt and clasping his hand around the door handle.

"Well, I hope you get home alright, and that your dad enjoy's his meal. And I'm truly sorry for what that asshat did to you, he didn't deserve someone as wonderful as you, okay? If someone mysteriously kills him in his sleep it definitely wasn't me, yeah?" Smiling again, he pulled the handle and pushed open the door of the Navigator, again marveling at the smoothness of the mechanisms and the shinyness of the gleaming bodywork.

Kurt just stared after the retreating figure of the footballer, wondering whether it had all been a mirage, a dream. There was no way Sam 'Perfect Abs' Evans had just spent the better part of forty minutes in the car of Lima's resident gay, talking about the break up of said gay and his evil, possessive, cheating harlot of an ex-oyfriend.

He whispered into the empty space that had been left when the passenger door opened and just as quickly closed "Thank you Sam."

As he strode away, Sam himself couldn't resist turning his head for one last look at the stunning black car that looked so out of place in the dust of the hard shoulder that his attention had been attracted in the first. He could make out the shadow of the soprano in the driver's seat, see him twisting round as he put on his seatbelt and then his hand snake out to twist the keys.

Kurt inserted his shiny set of keys, personally customised by himself so that they 'glowed', into the ignition and twisted firmly to the right.

Nothing happened.

He twisted again, putting extra force into it and turnng with all his might.

That time the engine splutterd a minescule bit and then died, making a mettalic keening sound and then, with a final screech and clunk, falling silent. He was stuck, his car unusable and in the middle of nowhere.

Sam had heard the silence as he turned after he had seen Kurt in the car, but thought nothing of it, just thinking that he was slow to start up the car. But when it started to make high pitched shrieking noised that it would seem obvious would proceede ruin Sam stopped, slowly facing back the way he came.

Walking back towards the car he was startled to see Kurt emerge from the car and stomp round to the boot, pulling out a tool kit and some kind of rag before pulling the bonnet up and bending over it slightly to see the inside properly.

All Sam could think at that moment, instantly forgetting the Blaine debacle and the fact that Kurt was being defensive and withdrawn,and the fact they they were stood on the side of a pretty much deserted road at dusk, was the fact that when he leaned over the hood of the car Sam could see his ass, and a great deal of his pale, creamy skin as his top rode up.

Unconsciously licking his lips he skook all such thoughts out of his head, repeating his very new mantra, _Don't look at Kurt, Don't look at Kurt, Don't look at Kurt..._

He wondered what the smaller boy was doing until he realised that he must be having car troubles _(Duh, way to go Sam, great deduction skills) _so he decided to stick around, hoping against hope that Kurt wouldn't be able to fix whatever was wring and that he would have to go home with him. Or at least let Sam drive Kurt home. Because the boy really shouldn't be left alone after the day he had had.

Kurt cursed as he stared into the cavernous space that held his V8 engine, closing his eyes and inhaling thtough his nose as he treid to remain calm, and not think about the fact that there was no way he was going to be able to get his car to start that night, because it needed work that even his dad wouldn't have been able to do without the right part.

He wiped his hands on the rag, grimacing at the oil that has rebelliously sneaked under his fingernails and was refusing to budge, and then shoved it into the tool box haphazardly as he tutted over the ruined oil line and worn down brake cables.

"Fuck! Stupid crappy piece of junk! Stupid crappy Blaine for making me be in this stupid shitty place with no ride and no cell signal in the dark with no car!" He muttered under his breath, running a hand through his now unkempt and messy hair.

Or, he thought he'd muttered.

"I don't doubt that Blaine is stupid and crappy, but I think if your Baby heard you call her that she'd not be nice to you for a month."

He whipped round, feeling both a sense of dread and the indiscribable feeling of having millions of butterflies in his stomach, battling each other for dominance.*

Sam had known that he had no cell coverage when he'd tried to ude his own, and he was _not_ going to let Kurt freeze while he waited for a recovery truck on his own at night. His dad was out and there wasn't another auto repair shop for about forty miles, meaning about forty minutes wait until someone showed.

"What are you still doing here?" He knew he sounded harsh and defencive when he had said it, but even though he felt horrible he couldn't take it back.

Watching Sam's face fall a little and his shoulders droop, Kurt knew he had to try. This boy had given up time to sit with him and talk about his problems without one word about his own, and Kurt owed it to him to be grateful and to be polute and courteous and friendly.

He bit his lip, "I didn't mean that. I just wondered swhy you hadn't already left, I thought I was going to have to wait for the recovery truck on my own."

Sam instantly perked up, knowing that Kurt really meant what he said from the set of his jaw and the honest sprakle in his eyes. Oh god, he was ignoring his mantra already. He blinked away the film of his own internalised rambling and smiled at the soprano, offering him a hand silently.

Kurt took it confusedly and just stared up at the jock whose large, warm, slightly calloused but still soft hand was enveloping his smaller, slenderer one.

"I'm not leaving you here on your own. I waited when I saw you were having car trouble, and I know your dad can't get it, so I'm taking you home. I don't care what you think." Sam said, a smile curling the corner of his lips as Kurt's pout grew more and more pronounced, even through his frustration and sadness

"I don't want to, you know why, but... I guess I have no real other options. I need to call the repair shop first though, so you'd better be good at waiting."

He watched in trepidation as Sam remained silent for a while, not knowing why but hoping that the blond would stay with him and keep him company.

"Sure. But, I have heating. We're sitting in my car."

* * *

><p>As Sam's car pulled away from the site where Kurt's black Navigator was sat, he finally leant back into his seat and relaxed slightly, looking over at Kurt, who was seemingly much happier as he sat in the passenger seat of Sam's run down old car and watchen him fiddle with the radio.<p>

"Damn! I can't ever get a proper station on this thing!" He said, twiddling the dial frantically as the static grew more and less pronounced with every turn.

Kurt chuckled slightly and eased Sam's hand off the dial, taking control and sliding it round slowly as he lostened for anything remotely like actual sound.

Sam nearly missed a turning he was so happy that Kurt ad laughed. Well, more of a giggle. No, actually just a chuckle. Hmm, possibly... Well, he laughed, and that was the main point. And thr way Kurt had been when Sam found him, the footballer thought that it was quite an achievement.

"She's a bit tempramental, the guy I bought her off said he couldn't ever get much but an oldies station so don't be disappointed if there's nothing but static noise." He said, smiling at the frown that Kurt made when he was forced to finally give up trying and just turn the thing off.

He turned to Sam, just hearing his sentence properly and wondering about the blond's use of female personification for his car.

"She?"

Sam looked up imperceptably to see Kurt's interested face, and then glanced down again., face reddening with embarassment.

"Yeah, she, I named her Cassandra." He admitted to his knees.

Then he realised he could hardly see the road, and had to swerve suddenly as a huge lorry came towards them and they veered into it's path.

Kurt flinched violently, shouting "Watch out!"

Surprised by his reaction, Sam jerked to look at Kurt, the pale boy surprising him with the intensity of his reaction.

"Uh, you okay Kurt?" He asked.

Kurt brushed some fallen bangs out of his eyes and tried to control his shaking voice. He hated careless driving, and he was terrified of getting into an accident. It was just too painful to think about...

"Uh, yeah, I was just... shocked, that's all." He lied semi-smoothly, taking deep breaths to try and calm himself.

It was only then that he realised they had driven past the turn off for his house and were heading further dwon the road, gaining speed marginally as they went.

"Sam! We've passed my house, you need to turn back" He said, touching the other boy's shoulder to get his attention.

Sam felt pressure on his sholder and that tinkling voice and knew that his plan had worked, He had realised it wasn't the best idea to leave Kurt on his own to mope, so he'd decided to bring him to his own house. He had driven past the turning he _knew_ led down to Kurt's, and was heading towards his own house, because he knew no one was in, his parents away for a romantic weekend, and so he and Kurt could talk, watch a film, anything to take Kurt's mind off the one thing Sam was sure would be at the absolute forefront of his mind.

Blaine.

"Don't worry, I knew that was the turning. It's just... Don't be mad at me, but I didn't want you to be alone tonight, seeing as you've been through a lot emotionally today. If your day was a rollercoaster it would be Oblivion, and I want to make sure you come out of that tunnel and up into the sparkling light."** He quipped, remembering his trip to England the year before and the amazing theme park he had been to. Alton something?

Kurt looked at him in shock, which quickly gace way to equal parts anger and gratitude. He couldn't quite understand where Sam's thoughts were coming from, and he had said that he wanted to be alone, but having Sam offer company and compassion made him choke up a little, and he was accepting before he knew what he was saying.

"Okay. I'll come back to yours. I don't want to disturb you though."

Sam smiled as he flicked on the indicator and then pulled right onto a sidestreet Kurt hadn't ever been on before.

"Don't worry, my parents are away on a long weekend romance break, they won't be around to say anything of fuss. We can just be normal, hang out, do whatever you want." Sam said, slowing as he approached his house.

They rolled the last few metres to a stop and then Sam shut off the engine, looking round at Kurt as the brubette nervously chewed a fingernail, something Sam was sure he never, ever did normally.

Kurt scolded himself for regressing to his disgusting old habit that he thought had been cruched by the introduction of his heaven sent manicurist, and removed his thumb nail from his mouth, concerned about the worried look in Sam's eyes.

"What? Is something wrong?" He questioned, anxious.

Sam chuckled almost ghostlike and then said "No, nothing. I just didn't think I'd ever see you chew your nails. You must've had a really tough day, huh? I know you told me the shortened version, but still. You'd better come inside. Hot chocolate sound good?"

Perking up at the mention of hot chocolate Kurt nodded, reaching out to grasp the handle and open the ca door, trying to get out before some invisible force pulled him back int. It only took him a few seconds to realise that said invicible force was his seatbelt. Shaking his head and groaning at his lack of thought he unbuckled it and then moved out of the car, closing the door softly with a click.

As he walked towards the pavement and took in a perfect looking red brick house with a picket fence and a small garden overflowing with what he knew wold be beautiful flowers in bloom (and in the daytime), he grew so preoccupied with absorbing his surroundings that he nearly walked right into Sam.

"Oh god, sorry." He gushed instantly, rocking back on his heels to allow them both more room.

Sam turned around from where he had been waiting for Kurt to join him, and smiled to himself at the way Kurt was so apologetic when things were rarely his fault.

"You shouldn't feel the need to apologise for everything that's wrong with the world Kurt. You're probably one of the only people that has absolutely nothing to be sorry for, apart from the occasional accidental stepping on toes, or dragging Mercedes shopping at six am for a bargain at the Macy's sale." Sam joked, laughing.

Kurt looked at him aghast and said "She told you about that?"

"I think she told everyone. But don't worry, I think it's endearing."

He reached over to ruffle Kurt's hair once again but reconsidered at the look he was getting from an obviouslt displeased soprano. Instead, Sam grasped his shoulder andsteered him up the front path and up to a blue front door.

"Pretending it's the TARDIS?" Kurt asked jokingly, knowing of Sam's Doctor Who collection.

Sam just looked down at his feet and eventually mumbled "...No."

Laughing, Kurt had forgotten all about the events of the afternoon and watched in glee **(A/N: Tehee, glee :D) **as Sam struggled to get his key to turn, eventually pushing open the door and motioning for Kurt to go inside.

Walking in he felt compelled to comment "It's... It's not bigger on the inside."***

Sighing, the blond footballer turned to Kurt and raised an eyebrow, hoping to achieve an effect he had seen the smaller boy procure many times.

"You're dork is showing Kurt."

Kurt just rolled his eyes in one protracted motion and then walked down the hall, stopping after a few strides to allow Sam to pass him.

Leading Kurt into the lounge he pointed to the sprawling mocha coloured couch and smiled.

"You can just sit there for a second while I get that hot chocolate." He said softly, leaving the room again and bustlign through to the kitchen, trying to remember how to make hot chocolate properly after so many years of declaring it something for children. He just had a feeling it might soothe Kurt.

Yup: powder, make a paste with the milk, add the boiling water and he was good to go.

Back in Sam's lounge, Kurt was sat demurly on the couch, studying the photos on the mantle piece. But one in particular brought him up short.

Sam was grinning out of the middle photo in a school uniform, obviously from the boarding school he had attended before McKinley, looking about fifteen. It was quite obviously a different uniform, but it reminded him so mcuh of Dalton and the Warblers and _Blaine_ that he suddenly couldn't take it any more, and once again he sank into the soft, furry couch, tears rebelliously defying his best efforts and squeezing themselves from between his eyelids, even though he had them forced shut like they were fucking Fort Knox.

Sam returned with two steaming mugs only to be greeted by the sight of Kurt curled up in his couch, his knees drawn up to his chest and his eyes closed, teard pouring down his face.

Rushing over, he nearly spilled their drinks all over the distraught boy, and ste them down carefully on the coffee table before returning to his main concern.

Kurt felt hands grasp his shoulders but he didn't respond, not caring who it was as he continued innefectively to stop the tears.

Then they cinched his waist and he was flying upwards, while something warm and soft yet solid slid underneath him.

Sam suppouted Kurt as he moved onto the couch, sitting underneath him and then lowering him so he was sat longways across his lap, Kurt's head leaning up against the cushions near his thighs and his feet at the other end. As the smaller brunette tried to speak, Sam smiled softly.

"I'm... so, so s-s-sorry S-sam."

Leaning down he did what he had been wanting to do ever sonce he had got into the car with Kurt.

He smoothed his hair back and then kissed him softly on the forehead.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hope you liked it! The song is 'Should've Tried Harder' by Hey Monday, obviously, and it's one of my favourites. :)**

***Go read the poem 'Kid' by Simon Armitage. We were forced to analyse it for English Literature GCSE and you will get why i made Kurt think this after his comment.**

****Oblivion is a ride at Alton Towers in England. It is frickin' amazing!**

*****If you know Doctor Who, i commend you. You have amazing taste. If you don't... GO GOOGLE IT! XD**

**Well, there we go, first chapter of my fourth (technically) fic. Enjoy :D**

**Oh, and... Penny for your thoughts? x**


	2. Chapter 2

**My goodness, long time no see on this story! Well, thanks for the reviews and fave's and such, and i do hope you still want to read this after such a hiatus. Basically my other Kum fic took over and then i ended up with a Kurtofsky on the boiler and well... i'm here now, 'kay?**

**Anyway, i hope you all like this!**

**To clear some stuff up: This is the finish up of the chapters, and then there will be a short epilogue, because i ended up getting where i wanted to go with this in this chapter, though goodness it ran away with me. Also, Sam was with Quinn, but they broke up obvs, but he never got with Santana at all, so there's no Samtana in here to worry about. And obviously because of when i started writing, Kurt is still at Dalton, although he isn't happy there. Also, his parents aren't poor, they have a nice, normal house and don't have money problems at all, because again, i started writing before Rumours and it just wouldn't work. Hope that's fine by everyone.**

**Oh, consider Glee disclaimed...**

**Anyway, enjoy,**

**Over and out x**

* * *

><p>The first thing Sam noticed when he awoke the next morning was the fact that has was sleeping on the sofa instead of his bed.<p>

The second was that the overhead light was on and his mom was going to kill him for wasting electricity.

The third was that there was an angel sleeping on his chest.

It was that third one that made him go from very nearly actually dozing to fully awake in about three milliseconds flat.

He had nearly convinced himself that the previous night had been a dream, that he hadn't rescued Kurt from a bad break-up and a broken down car and then invited him back to his house and ended up letting him stay the night. But apparently it hadn't been, and Sam was ecstatically happy about it.

Because he had never envisaged a universe where he would get to wake up with Kurt Hummel asleep on his chest, even if it wasn't quite for the reasons he would have hoped, but somehow fate had actually managed to not kick him up the ass and then spit on him as it left, which is what he had a feeling it normally relished doing.

He basked in the sensation and just stared down at the boy wrapped around him, Kurt's arms curving around his chest and hugging him tightly while his legs tangled with Sam's, one foot hanging off the edge of the couch in a way that he found extremely adorable. At some time in the night he must have moved around a lot, and it was evidenced byt the state of his clothes and hair.

Sam wished he'd thought to get Kurt something else to wear the previous night, rather than letting him fall asleep in his clothes, something he was sure he was going to be lampooned for, but he just hadn't been thinking when he had walked into the room to see Kurt bawling his eyes out again over a photo of himself in his uniform. It was so obvious that it reminded Kurt of Blaine - or that slick hobbit, as Sam had suddenly taken to calling him - and he just knew he should have seen it and moved it or something, but he hadn't.

So he had forgotten all about the hot chocolates, which he could still see in all their resplendant cold glory perched on the coffee table, and rushed over to help Kurt, screwing up the photo as he went, ending up letting him fall asleep on his lap as he gently stroked his hair and hummed a lullaby his mom used to sing for him.

Which all meant that Kurt's clothes had been through the wringer as he tossed and turned, and they now looked much more like the contents of Sam's washing basket than anything Kurt would normally deem passable. He had got changed out of his uniform before he had left Dalton, and now his jeans were twisted slightly, one leg riding up his calf as far as such tight jeans could, and his shirt was excessively crumpled, enough wrinkles that even Sam probably wouldn't consider wearing it. But then again, he mainly wore t-shirts and hoodies, so that wasn't a very good comparison.

The jacket that he had been wearing was flung over the back of the sofa behind Kurt's feet and his shoes were shoved under the table haphazardly, as if they had been thrown and just managed to land under it. This lack of smartness was very definitely what Kurt would think was a disaster, but Sam thought it made him look much less prim and proper, especially combined with his now-messy hair. It was a look that Kurt definitely worked and Sam definitely liked.

Said hair had lost all it's styled glory and was instead soft and strokable, mussed and looking like someone had run their hands though it a lot of times. (If asked Sam would swear on a stack of bibles* that he had never ever touched Kurt's hair. Ever Your Honour.) There were a few brunette strands falling over the soprano's closed eyes, fluttering up and down occasionally as they were caught in the soft breath as Kurt snorted gently.

But it wasn't any of those things that made Sam so sure that the being on his chest was definitely more godlike than human. It was the pale, perfectly sculpted face of the boy resting on him, the slightly accented cheekbones and the fluttering eyelids as if he was having a good dream, his soft, rosy cheeks that Sam knew flushed an extremely pretty red when the boy was upset of embarassed. And it was also quite possibly the plump, crimson lips that Kurt posessed and the sculpted eyebrows, put to such great use whenever Kurt wanted to be disdainful, along with the covered but no less perfect deep blue eyes that the delicate eyelids covered as he slept.

Sam was aching to reach out and touch him, to stroke the back of his hand down Kurt's face or press another soft kiss to his pale forehead. But he knew he couldn't because if he did that Kurt would wake up and the spell would be broken. He had to be very careful how much he moved around so as not to jostle Kurt, and he was pretty sure that freeing an arm to caress his face would come under the category of 'movement'.

So, he sat and watched at Kurt breathed in and out for a while more, alternatively humming softly to himself and gently blowing onto Kurt's hair to watch it dance under his breath. But in time he felt himself getting sleepy again so, checking that he wasn't disturbing Kurt and that he was still comfortable, he closed his eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep again, Kurt's body warm in his arms.

* * *

><p>Kurt's first sense to come back to him after what he thought might have been the most relaxing and invigorative night's sleep he'd ever had was smell.<p>

He was used to an everpresent but very slight smell of fresh paint in the mornings, and sometimes coffee depending on whether someone else was up before him. He always smelt whichever fabric softener Carole had tried that week and an odd but definitely familiar collection of scents such as the ones from his designer clothes when he awoke, but that morning something was off, and he couldn't smell any of it.

Instead, he could distinctly smell the airfreshner that they had tried one time but had stopped buying after Finn realised that he was mildly alergic to, but that Kurt had loved. Which should have been his first clue. He could also smell something which for some reason set his heart pounding and his toes curling. It was musky, a soft yet somehow extremely masculine smell, not a body spray or a deoderant but just a natural male aroma, something that made his mouth water.

The next sense to assault him was taste, and he immediately recognised the bitter, acrid taste that felt like something had crawled in his mouth and if not died then at least made its litter box there. Kurt could tell just from that that he hadn't brushed his teeth the night before, and he was as upset as it was possible to be in his drowsy state when he realised it.

Also, he couln't taste any food or anything unlike the previous times that he had experianced such a feeling, and he couldn't figure out why until it dawned on him that he hadn't eated dinner the night before and that he was therefore starving.

Which led him onto sense three, his ears perking up as if they expected to hear the clinking of coffee mugs any second.

However, though the coffee mugs didn't ever sound he began to notice other things, such as the way his ever so slightly uneven breathing was interspersed with extra even, easy, deep breaths that were mainly in time with his own, leading him to think that maybe he was just going a little crazy.

The second sound was the even ticking of the clock that he could tell was hung on the wall behind him, seemingly mocking him with it's hypnotic and lulling rhythm. He had never had ticking clocks in his room because he didn't like the repetative sound, and he much preferred digital display clocks to those with actual hands, but the steady ticking was actually quite soothing, and he thought if he concentrated on it enough it would make him more sleepy and not less sleepy.

However, the next thing in his sensory overload was the realisation that he wasn't actually lying on a bed at all, rather he was pressed up against a very warm, soft, yet hard surface, something Kurt just wanted to sink into and get lost in, be swallowed up by because it was that comfortable that he didn't want to ever move.

He could feel his arms wrapped around whatever it was, and his fingers, as he wiggled them, came into contact with something soft and smooth and very warm. But when he moved his hand more they brushed up against something that he could tell staright away, even in his sleepy state, was denim. Which confused him as to what the first material was if it was covered in denim.

Wait.

It wasn't...

It wouldn't be?

He was lying on _someone_.

And a tall, well built, toned someone if what he could feel was correct.

But all that didn't make sense. Who would he be lay on?

Finn? No, the taller boy may be his step brother and cool with him, but he wouldn't ever let him fall asleep on his chest.

And he was sure as hell it wasn't his dad.

So who?

Squeezing his arms that little bit tighter he shifted slightly and then slowly opened one eye, looking up into the bright light that was filling the room and giving himself time to adjust to the glare.

When his eyes had stopped being quite so blurry he tilted his head and could just make out a mop of bright blonde hair and a tanned face...

Oh god. He'd fallen asleep on Sam Evans.

Which was right about when the events of the previous night came back in full force and he had to forcibly restrain himself from sitting straight up like he'd seen people do in movies.

He remembered it all, his fight with Blaine over the older boy's flirting and his tendancy to buy cheap presents as apologies for things he shouldn't have been doing to apologise for in the first place. Then his impromptu song, which he thought of fondly as he remembered the shocked look on Blaine's face as he belted it out in the hallways as the 'curly haired hobbit' (Puck's phrase) was want to do.

His breakdown by the side of the road was coming back in flashes through his still slightly sleep addled brain, but he could definitely picture Sam turning up, getting in the car with him, sitting there and holding him tight as he cried over _Blaine_. Urrgh, even the name made him shudder in disgust.

The taller boy had just let him pour it all out then patched him back up and allowed him to pull himself together, before leaving when Kurt had asked him to, to save himself from any more embarassment.

Which hadn't gone exactly to plan, seeing as his car had broken down and Sam had ended up driving him home. Except not to his home, he had driven back to his own and insisted that Kurt stay with him, because he didn't want his family seeing him like he was. Instead he had ushered Kurt inside and tried to cheer him up, if Kurt remembered correctly offering him hot chocolate and joking over his dorkiness.

Which led Kurt to the horrifying conclusion of his day from hell, having Sam walk back into the room to fing him blubbering over a picture of the formerly brunette (Kurt _knew_ it was dye) boy in the uniform from his previous, all because it had reminded him of that slick hobbit!

He couldn't believe, in the cold light of day, that he'd ever cried over him.

He could only imagine what Sam had been thinking, coming back in to the room to see the only-just-re-composed Kurt bawling his eyes out over a photo of someone who wasn't even his actual ex-boyfriend.

He probably thought he was a complete basket case and had only let him stay out of pity, sympathy for the poor gay kid who just broke up with his first ever boyfriend. Which just made Kurt want to die, quickly and preferably painlessly, like if the world were to become a huge cliché and open up and swallow him whole, which he really wouldn't have minded.

But he supposed that at least it had been Sam who had found him at the side of the road, not Azimio or Sanderson, one of the football or hockey guys. Hell, he would have taken Sue Sylvester over them. Sam had instead been perfect and the archetypal knight in jeans and a t-shirt, and he guessed that he should probably do something to thank his host before he had to go back to Dalton or worse, face Burt and Carole.

He wriggled his limbs experimantally and realised that as it was him hugging Sam (he was so glad the other boy hadn't woken up yet) he could actually lift himself off the blond with ease, even if retrieving his car keys from where they fallen from his pocket, down behind Sam's back, took skill. He tried not to think of the muscle residing just under his fingertips as he did so. He felt he'd probably done enough accidental molesting when he'd been asleep.

After he'd disentangled both himself and his possessions from Sam's living room couch he did a quick scan of the room and found that the picture that he had been upset over the night before had been flipped so that it was resting upside down on the mantlepiece. Smiling at the thought that Sam had bothered to turn it he decided that as he was most definitely not going to be shedding any more tears on Blaine he should probably just flip it back the right way up.

But as he reached the fireplace and grasped the ornamented frame, standing the photo up, he got a shock.

The photo had not only been tuned to face the shiny marble surface, Sam had actually remved the enitre thing, leaving only the frame and it's gleaming glass insert.

He was astounded at the effort Sam had put into making sure he didn't get upset again and it was giving him a choking feeling in his chest that he was frantically trying to assure himself wasn't tears. How was it that the boy he had _thought_ he had loved couldn't even remember his favourite food or what he liked to see in the cinema, but Sam had gone to the lengths of hiding a photo of himself just because it had momentarily upset Kurt.

He hadn't even seen the blond do it, didn't even know he'd had the time.

Shaking his head in an effort to stop himself being so damn sentimental he pushed back off the marble fireplace and wandered out into the hallway, after having taken one last look at the sleeping Sam.

He looked adorable, flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelids as his dyed blond hair stuck up at all angles, bits raised into the air and others smoothed down, his rising and falling chest making them shift ever so slightly.

Kurt couldn't see his eyes but he could see the soft looking eyelids that covered them and he could also see the plump lips that Sam was teased about so much. Personally Kurt had never seen what was so wrong with Sam's lips. Sure, they weren't the smallest lips ever, but they were in pretty good proportion with his face and the were red and soft and they looked incredibly kissable...

Oh god, no!

He could not be thinking things like that, not so soon after he broke up with Blaine and _especially_ not about straight guys who Finn had already warned him off once. It was just a manifestation of his anger at Blaine, and his desire to be loved and appreciated. Yeah, that was what it was. Nothing more.

Trying to cloud out his thoughts with song lyrics and meaningless trivia he bustled properly into the hallway, before locating the kitchen and hoping the Evans' wouldn't mind if he used some of their food to make himself and Sam breakfast. After all, it was the least he could do, seeing as he had ruined Sam's afternoon, practically taken over his house, become a weeping mess on his floor and then half molested him in his sleep.

He searched out the ingredients for pancakes and then set to work mixing the batter.

* * *

><p>The second time Sam woke up he could tell something was different almost straight away.<p>

The comforting pressure on his chest had vanished and it had instead been replaced by thin air and a chill where before there had been a warm body.

Opening his eyes he glanced briefly around the room and realised that Kurt wasn't there at all any more. The room suddenly felt much colder than it had and he sat up blearily and wiped the sleep out of his eyes, checking his phone and noting that it was ten past ten. He was extremely glad it was a Saturday because he would have hated to have had to gone to school after the exhausting day he'd had the day before.

Standing up slowly he stretched, not caring that his t-shirt rode dangerously high up his stomach, and then looked around himself, wondering why the room seemed different that it had the previous time, apart from Kurt not being in it any more.

There was sunlight streaming in through the thin curtains and making patterns on the floor where it came through one of his mom's weird hanging crystal things, little rainbows splaying out from the twirling gem as in hung from the ceiling in front of the window, but he didn't think it was that.

The fact that the room was much lighter would have masked the glare of the electric light anyway but Sam could tell that it had been turned off, obviously Kurt had got more sense than him and actually cared about the environment enough to turn lights and such off. He was just glad his mom hadn't seen it on all night long, because he knew that she would have had a lot to say on the subject.

But apart from that the room seemed unchanged, yet he still had a niggling in the back of his mind telling him that something was off.

He sat back down on the couch, bracing his hands on his knees and really studying the room. A few seconds passed and suddenly he was jumping up, striding over to the fireplace. The thing that had changed was that the picture frame on his mantlepiece, the one he had turned over the previous night so that it wouldn't upset Kurt any more than it already had done, was stood the right way up again.

Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Kurt had got up before him and actually gone over and turned the picture frame the right way up, he suddenly noticed the delicious smell issuing from the direction of the kitchen. It was accompanied by clanging and the sounds of someone walking around and Sam abruptly realised that Kurt was still in his house, and by the sound and smell of it he was making breakfast.

Walking out into the hall he paused at the kitchen doorway as he saw the smaller boy flitting between the cooker and the sideboard as he stirred something in a large jug and then poured it into a frying pan which was sizzling and spitting as he shook it.

He had been right in his assessment that Kurt's clothes would be irrovocably crumpled, but somehow the messy look only served to make him look even more adorable.

Well, if you pushed hard enough he would probably admit that it made Kurt look quite hot.

Taking his time so that he didn't startle the brunette, Sam walked through the door and made his way over to where Kurt was standing at the cooker, picking the frying pan up and shaking it around again as he put the spatula down. Sam only had time to notice the plate of finished pancakes on the table before he saw Kurt's wrist flick up out of the corner of his eye.

Kurt smiled as he shifted the pancake around in the pan, making sure that none of it was stuck to the bottom, before he expertly flicked his wrist and watched it soar up into the air, flying possibly three or four feet up before gracefully flipping over and falling back down perfectly into the pan.

It was a skill that had taken long hours of practice and much pancake eating on his dad's part, but it was worth it, just to know he could. He had always loved cooking and the ability to flip pancakes like a pro may be trifling but he still loved it.

As he set the pan back on the stove he heard a slow clapping start up behind him and turned around in shock, nearly knocking the pan off in the process.

Sam was stood behind him, an awed and amused look on hia face as he tore off a bit of one of the pancakes and quickly chewed it up, before smiling at Kurt and saying "That was awesome. You're a great cook dude."

"Don't call me dude."

Sam just laughed as Kurt scowled and instead nodded and said "Okay, well that was one of the best pancakes i've ever had Your Highness Prince Kurt."

He walked even further into the room and went round to stand next to Kurt, watching as the petite soprano laughed at his proclamation, sliding the last pancake onto the plate as his did so before he placed the frying pan in the sink. He squirted in washing up liquid then pratically skipped back to the table in the middle, looking at Sam as if he was asking for permission to sit and eat the food he had made.

Sam laughed, "Kurt you can sit down you know, i'm not going to yell at you or anything. You just made me breakfast so even if i was mad at you or anything, you would have officially won me over completely with amazing food."

Grinning, Kurt pulled out the chair he was stood in front of and sat down, placing his own plate in front of him and daintily placing two of the giant stack of pancakes onto his plate before cutting into them.

He had eaten most of his first pancake while they sat in companionable silence before he looked up and saw Sam looking at him as he himself scarfed down the rest of the pile at an inhuman pace. When he finally had to smirk at the look of pain that crossed Sam's features when he realised that he'd finished them all, Sam just rolled his eyes, which Kurt had to admit was comical more than sarcastic.

Swallowing the final mouthful, he said "So... how are you feeling this morning?"

He could tell just from looking at him that on the surface Kurt was fine, but he was unsure what the smaller boy was really feeling underneath. He had come to realise, even from the few months he had spent with Kurt at McKinley, that he was very adept at putting on a mask to obscure his real emotions. And while it was very helpful in beating what he had heard Kurt call the 'Neanderthals' it made deciphering his feelings much harder than it could have been.

Kurt just smiled dryly and said "Well, i'm feeling much better than i was yesterday, thankfully. That said, i'm not exactly about to burst into song and go skipping round talking about fairies and rainbows."

As Sam just looked at him encouragingly and smiled softly he continued, closing his eyes as he spoke.

"Quite obviously, i've just broken up with my boyfriend. Which isn't exactly one of the most fantasmical things i've ever experienced, but i'll recover, and to be honest i'm glad it happened. It was getting to the point where it was fucking ridiculous."

He had never actually heard Kurt swear before that he could recall, and it shocked him for a secong before he realised that Kurt was still speaking.

"-and gifts, which i already told you about, so i won't get into that. But basically while i'm so pleased that i'm not stuck in that kind of relationship with that slick hobbit any more, it still hurts, because i thought i loved him, y'know?"

When he had asked it he had meant it as an actual question, but what he didn't expect was for Sam to look at him oddly for a few seconds and then burst out laughing hysterically. It took him a moment to fully grasp what was happening but when he did he just sat and stared at Sam perplexedly, wondering what he had said or done that amused him so much.

He was starting to get worried and paranoid about everything being one big joke when Sam finally calmed down enough to speak.

"Sorry Kurt i... I didn't mean anything, i was just... it's just that..." He continued to chuckle and utter half formed sentences in between until he stopped the laughter properly and turned to Kurt with a smile in his eyes, saying "I thought the same thing to myself earlier, called him a slick hobbit, so it seems like we're on the same wavelength or something."

Sam chuckled again and Kurt just rolled his eyes, knowing that Sam was thinking all kinds of sci-fi things as he stared off into the distance, his head tilting to one side.

He waved a hand on front of the blond's face and said "Hello? Earth to Sam?"

As he snapped back to reality and put on his puppy dog apologetic face, saying sorry for spacing out, Kurt was hit with the sudden thought of 'He's so adorkable and cute'.

He had to stop himself from metaphorically, or possibly literally, slapping himself on the wrist or telling himself he didn't mean it as thoughts of Blaine's flirting crept into his head, reminding him that he could find whomever he wanted cute. Sure, he couldn't vocalise any of his feelings or even flirt overly much, but it didn't mean he couldn't have feelings at all. He was a free man and he could do _his_ fair share of window shopping too.

Sam was torn out of his reverie when Kurt started comically waving a hand around in front of his face, nearly hitting his nose such was it's proximity. He made a pouting 'sorry' face and then grinned as Kurt laughed at him, leaning back over the table to scrape up the crumbs of his last pancake, the seriousness of their earlier conversation all but forgotten.

However, he wasn't quite ready to let it go just yet, so he stood up and cleared his plates away, humming as he did the washing up, before he turned around to see Kurt smirking at him from where he sat, still at the table/breakfast bar.

"Look at you all domesticated Sammy Evans." He joked, squealing as suds flew at him as Sam flicked the water up and towards him.

"Don't get anything on my clothes!"

Sam chortled, "Kurt, your clothes are already ruined, or at least crumpled up and slept in, so i don't think a bit of bubbles will do you any harm.

However, as he advanced on him, the washing up completed, Kurt still shrieked playfully and skittered backwards, backing through the doorway and into the hall, where Sam laughed when he saw his eyes dart to the lounge door.

Kurt grinned at him and then ran, darting in through the open door and letting it swing shut behind him, as Sam followed quickly and pushed through it, coming to a complete standstill as he made it through the doorway.

He couldn't see Kurt anywhere, and his eyes scanned the entire room, cataloging all the places he could have been hiding before he heard the door swing shut again and there was someone flinging themselves on his back.

Kurt watched Sam's confusion from his hiding place behind the door and then took his chance before the blond could turn around. He sneaked forwards and then threw himself up at Sam's back, hoping to shock him.

As he clasped his hands around the taller boy's neck he heard Sam gasp and then he was being twirled around as Sam laughed and aimed himself at the couch. He broke apart from him at the last minute, and ended up tumbling onto the floor as Sam hit the couch.

It hadn't hurt at all, and he was giggling and pulling himself up off the floor when he spotted the corner of something peeking out from behind the back of the couch.

Sam quietened his laughter and rolled over onto his stomach, pushing himself forwards with his hands and peering over the edge of the couch arm as he spotted Kurt lay on the floor. He was about to lean down and offer him a hand to get up, hoping that he hadn't been hurt when they fell, when he realised that the smaller boy wasn't moving.

His eyes were open and they were fixed onto something that Sam couldn't see, something that had seemingly shocked him into silence.

He tried to remember if there was any rubbish or anything that Kurt would dislike behind it, but was drawing a blank until he realised that it was where he had first spotted the previous night when he had been tyring to comfort Kurt.

Meaning it was the first place he had thought of to dispose of the photo that was tormenting him.

And Kurt had seen it.

He didn't know how long he lay on the floor staring frozenly at the uniformed figure in the photo on the floor in front of him. It was probably mere moments but it still felt like hours, days, to Kurt.

In what, in reality, must have been a relatively short space of time, Kurt's feelings suddenly changed.

The previous day he had been horrified and upset, hysterical and blaming himself for Blaine's betrayal, becoming more and more upset as he thought about their ruined relationship. But as he stared at the crumpled, not-yet-blond figure in the photo, he stated to realise that maybe it was a good thing that he had broken up with Blaine. In fact maybe it was a great thing!

Sure, he'd seemed perfect and all, but what he'd really fallen for was the avaliability of it all. Complete 'Small Town Gay Syndrome', the first semi-decent guy to turn up avaliable and out and proud and Kurt had fallen madly in love with the idea of having a boyfriend. However, he hadn't fallen in love with Blaine.

In fact, he didn't really think he'd ever felt anything better than passing fancy and a semi-decent friendship for the warbler, but he had still given his all to their relationship. But all the stupid, hair gelled prick had done was take everything for granted, flirt with every good looking guy in sight regardless of sexuality and then swan back to Kurt like it was nothing.

And he absolutely hated that he'd made himself so vunerable for someone so egotistical and narcissistic.

He hated it.

He didn't know quite how long he had actually spent on Sam's living room floor, but suddenly he felt hands gripping his arms and then arms sliding protectively around his torso as Sam picked him up and sat him down gently on the couch, looking at him with concerned eyes.

Sam really wasn't sure what he was seeing in Kurt's eyes. It was a mix of passion and fear and something cold yet beautiful that made him want to shiver.

As he set the smaller boy on the couch, hoping he would snap out of his reverie, he sat down next to him and put one arm carefully around his shoulders, breathing a sigh of relief when Kurt snuggled into it and turned to look at him, his wide, ocean blue eyes questioning.

"You moved it."

He was talking about the picture right? Well, he couldn't deny that.

"Um, yeah. Last night. I figured it would probably be best to not have it around if it made you upset like that." Sam shrugged nonchalantly, hoping Kurt wouldn't take offense.

Those blue eyes looked down again towards the slender boy's lap, then flicked back up towards his face.

"Thank you Sam," He said in a small, but somehow strong voice, "For thinking about that. And thank you for letting me crash at your house and for putting up with my hysterics and for letting me talk about complete shit in that car. In fact, thank you for not leaving that car on the side of the road like so many other people would have done.

It was the disarming, white teeth, commercial worthy smile that Kurt gave him then that made him want to melt inside. It was timid and hopeful and he knew the guy had no idea what Sam's stomach was doing (backflips) or what his hands were itching to do (brush the stray strand of hair out of his blue eyes).

His voice came out strained, deeper and more gravelly than it normally sounded when he opened his mouth to reply. He had to cough and start again when he got an odd look from Kurt as he spluttered.

"You're welcome Kurt, and i'm just happy to have been able to help. I don't mind one bit, and besides, i was only doing what any decent person in this godforsaken town would have done." He said, finally, in his normal voice.

Kurt smiled even wider whn Sam spoke, completely earnestly, and had to dip his head to hide the blush that he knew was staining his cheeks. Sam had squeezed his shoulders even more while he had been talking, playfully hugging Kurt, and he had to keep reminding himself that he didn't need yet another straight guy crush.

"I don't know Sam, most people in this one cow town wouldn't have bothered to stop." He chuckled dryly as he thought again how glad he was someone _had_ stopped.

At that Sam's gaze darkened and Kurt grew worried, until he said "Yeah, i know. That's why i said any _decent_ person. And the rest of them can just go fuck themselves, right?"

As he got the discretion Sam was trying to make, he smiled, knowing that Sam felt him worth helping, then laughed when the blond swore and winked at him, pulling him even closer if possible as he grinned. But then his expression fell through again and he tilted his head to the side, the universal indication that he wanted to ask something.

Kurt sighed, "Go on, what did you want to ask?"

Sam looked embarassed at being called out, but then started softly "Well, last night that photo made you so upset that it hurt me to watch you fall apart like that. But today you just stared at it frozen for a while, and then here we are laughing and joking around about it. What happened?"

Sam really hoped that he hadn't pushed anything too far, or that Kurt was going to burst into tears at any moment, because he had been telling the truth when he said that it killed him to see Kurt that upset or in pain. But after a moment the soprano shifted, pulling put from under his arm so that he could turn and face him on the couch.

"Okay, so yesterday all that photo reminded me of was the one seemingly good thing in my life that had just gone to hell. It was a reminder of all the harsh things that we said to each other and all the times i cried before over him and over what he was doing. But then i looked at it again just then, and it was like the hurt had turned to anger, and frustration." He watched Sam nod and smiled a tiny bit, letting him digest that before he moved on.

"And suddenly i wasn't upset that we'd ended it, i was furious with him and with myself, that he had been such an idiot and that i hadn't ended it sooner. Sure, i might, in the end, not have been in the relationship for the right reasons, or even at the right time in my life, but i put everything into it, i made every 'compromise' and obeyed every rule, and i'm still the one who got my heart stomped on. Yeah, it shouldn't hurt, but it does. Because i thought that it was going to last forever and then suddenly it lasted less than my time on the football team. Goddammit, i was supposed to fucking find love! I was supposed to get my happy ending and my prince and get out of this fucking small minded town, and be in love!"

With that Sam couldn't take it any more and he reached across the couch and tugged Kurt forcefully into his arms, hearing the other boy's harsh gasp as the air was knocked out of him as he slammed against his toned chest. He couldn't stand to see Kurt get so emotional over such a douchebag,

Kurt sighed softly as he relaxed into Sam's chest and before he knew it he was nearly on the verge of tears again as Sam pulled away and looked at him with a look on confusion marring his otherwise perfect face.

Kurt warily watched as his face got more and more pained, before he couldn't take it any more and just threw himself away from Sam, starting to pace the room as the blond watched anxiously.

"I should have just kept my mouth shut! Tried not to notice the little things and just worked on the relationship instead. I should never have let my one real chance at a relationship get away because i felt _underappreciated_!" He sneered the last bit before he realised that Sam wasn't on the couch any more.

Sam, knowing that he needed to get Kurt to see himself and his predicament properly, remembered something and qickly walked across the room and started to look through something that he hadn't bothered with since he'd started Glee.

Kurt just stared, as Sam rooted through something that filled the room with loud clacking noises, and watched in concern and interest as he stood up and purposefully walked back towards him, an odd look playing across his face.

He sighed, saying "He was a fucking douche to me and i knew it. But what the hell other prospects did i have? _Do_ i have?"

Knowing that he should let Kurt be in peace he simply handed him the object and said "Don't ever feel like that Kurt. Never, _ever_ just 'put up' with something because you don't think you'll get better. You deserve better, okay? And you'll get it."

And with that said he looked one last time at the shattered looking boy before him and then headed out the room, turning once before he left to say quietly "I know music makes more sense to you than talking. Track seven. Just... just listen to it, right?"

Stunned by the sudden turn the conversation had taken, Kurt just stared at Sam's back as he flitted out the door and disappeared into what he was pretty sure was the kitchen. As he slowly realised that Sam was giving him space and time to think, he turned the object in his hand over and saw a CD case, the words Mayday Parade splashed across the top of a faceless guy fidgeting with a tie that turned into a dark road, a lonely figure waiting on it.

Shrugging, he walks across to the Evans' sound system, flipping open the case and inserting the shiny disk into it as the lid clicked shut, the mechanical whirring the only sign that anything was happening.

As the drums and guitar kicked in he walked slowly back to the couch, sitting down and waiting for the lyrics.

_She fell to the bottom of her life  
>This wasn't meant for two<br>She struggles to find herself in time  
>But she can barely move<em>

And right from the start he could tell why Sam told him to listen to the song. It was as if the rough yet smooth voiced singer had watched him break down in his Navigator the day before, seem him cry and fall apart and struggle to make himself even respond to Sam's kindness. He lay down on the couch and stretched his legs out, closing his eyes so that he could just absorb the music as the next verse started.

_Just try and get up_  
><em>You gotta slowly brush off<em>  
><em>I know that words aren't enough<em>  
><em>But you're better than this<em>

Exactly what Sam had said. He responded better to music than talking, always had, probably always would. And listening to someone who had obviously either gone though a similar thing or watched someone they loved go through it had a strange, yet somehow profoundly expected impact. He could almost hear Sam reaching out from the other room, helping him to his feet, pulling him out of his car's footwell, making sure that he knew that he had his friends and his family and that he would find what he was looking for.

_Save your heart_  
><em>For someone that's worth dying for<em>  
><em>Don't give it away<em>

And bam! It was like ice cold water being thrown at him, a short sharp slap to the face. Blaine was _not_ worth dying for, not worth even getting up in the fucking morning for, and he knew it. He fucking knew it! As much as he knew that the next time around, if, and god he hoped there was a next time, he wouldn't be giving his heart to someone who couldn't even pick out his favourite cologne. He would be saving it for someone special. Someone who cared, and who would give him theirs in return.

_Torn apart  
>Never getting what you've been crying for<br>It's always the same_

As Sam sat and listened to the music he knew well pound through the rooms of his house he felt a tear try and make its self known in the corner of his eye. Brushing anything close to moisture away firmly, and knowing that he shouldn't care so much for the brunette, only a day after his break up, he sat and wondered what Kurt was making of it. He hoped that it would give him the same comfort and yet sense of empowerment that it had given Sam the first time he had heard it, or at least, properly heard it, and understood it.

_She turns the pages everyday_  
><em>Just to change the mood<em>  
><em>But every chapter reads the same<em>  
><em>So hard to make it through<em>

At the same time, Kurt and Sam both thought bitterly about their situations, and things that they had done.

Kurt had had the same repetative pattern every day for weeks and weeks, constantly having to blend in with the Warblers, trying too hard to make subtle changes to his routine yet ending up with nothing but an overriding feeling of déjà vu as he repeated the same things every day, on autopilot. He had settled for comfortable, like a fifties housewife who secretly dreampt of a scandalous romance and getting swept off her feet by a handsome stranger, but instead just went on with her every day dull life without persuing it at all.

_Just try and get up_  
><em>You gotta slowly brush off<em>  
><em>I know that words aren't enough<em>  
><em>But you're better than this<em>

Sam had run from things, from people, and tried to start anew, but had instead ended up just burying himself deeper in the quagmire of enevitability and repetition. He had his parents, sure, and his friends in Glee, and he supposed even his strong friendship with Quinn, but he wanted something more. He was better than his past, and he was going to prove it.

_Save your heart_  
><em>For someone that's worth dying for<em>  
><em>Don't give it away<em>  
><em>Torn apart<em>  
><em>Never getting what you've been crying for<em>  
><em>It's always the same<em>

Kurt had his face covered with his hands, lying over his eyes even though they were closed, as he slowly but surely built up the courage that he knew he would have to have to go back to Dalton, face the Warblers, face _Blaine_. But even though it was hard to confront, it was also surprisingly easy, because he knew now that he had never loved the hobbit (he giggled despite himself) and he suddenly got the tears. They had been tears of sorrow, but now he pictured them as tears of joy, because he was free, by his own hand, to get what he wanted, what he needed.

_And you give  
>And they take<br>And it's love that you want  
>But not love that you make<em>

He knew that he had let himself be pushed around, mentally and emotionally manipulated, and he only had himself to thank for that. But now he was suddenly stronger, and he could face whatever they threw at him.

Sam, meanwhile, stood up from his chair in the kitchen and started to make his way back towards the living room, hoping that he wouldn't find either and angry Kurt or a hysterical one. But so far the sound of the music was all he could hear, so he supposed it boded well.

_Save your heart_  
><em>For someone that's worth dying for<em>  
><em>Don't give it away<em>

Kurt knew he wasn't going to give it away easily the next time around (when, not if, he reminded himself) but he still wanted to know that when the time came, he would be willing to give it to the someone that deserved it.

_Save your heart_  
><em>For someone who leaves you breathless<em>  
><em>And I know that you're scared<em>  
><em>Seems like someone said you had it in you (are you scared?)<em>  
><em>All along you said you knew this was wrong<em>  
><em>But still worth dying for<em>

As Sam moved quietly back into the room he saw that Kurt was lying perfectly still on the couch, his face covered partly by his hands, yet he was still serene and perfect, his smooth lower jaw and mouth visible as his eyes were shielded. And he knew that he should have the guts to be honest with Kurt, even though some people might think he was wrong, might not like it, because whatever it was, it was worth dying for.

_And you give (and you give)_  
><em>And they take (and they take)<em>  
><em>And it's love that you want<em>  
><em>But not love that you make<em>

As Kurt heard something that wasn't the music from his left side his hands flashed away from his eyes and he opened them warily, before spotting Sam stood still in the middle of the room, halfway between the couch and the fireplace, watching him with some emotion he couldn't describe in his face, and fire in his eyes.

He sat up and smiled at the blond, only a tiny smile but still one that must have revealed his epiphany and determinatioln from the way that Sam's face warmed from rest into a wide smile that showed his teeth and set his face aglow.

_Save your heart_  
><em>For someone that's worth dying for<em>  
><em>Don't give it away<em>  
><em>Don't give it away<em>

As the music faded out in the background he felt an indescribable rush of warmth for the boy who had helped him out in so many ways even though they hadn't been especially close when they had been at McKinley, and acted without thinking, throwing himself into Sam's arms and hugging him tightly, not caring if he was slowly squeezing the life out of him as he smooshed his cheek into Sam's chest and closed his eyes, feeling the heat that radiated off the blond.

Sam had to blink and make sure he wasn't hallucinating as the brunette vision that had been perched on his couch flung its self at him with unbelievable speed, wrapping its arms around his chest and tightening them until he could hardly breathe, its cheek softly pressing to his chest like it was a feather, yet like satin on his skin, even through his t-shirt.

He hardly had time to do more than take a deep breath and inhale the scent that he had become familiar with on the couch when he had woken up, a sweet yet dark fragrance that had him imaging jasmine and blown out candles** and yet was still so masculine, when Kurt wriggled out of his now-returned embrace as fast as he had leapt into it, a startled expression on his face.

Trying to understand what was wrong he gazed at Kurt curiously, his eyebrows drawing together like his father's did when he was bewidered. But he didn't have a clue about the reason until Kurt spoke.

"Oh god, i'm so sorry Sam, i mean, you've been great and i can't thank you enough but i shouldn't just be invading your personal space like that and i'm so sorry and i've made this awkward and uncomfortable and i can't believe i just did that and i'm so sorry and-"

His eyes widened as Sam placed a hand over his mouth and cut him off.

"Kurt, i don't know why you think i'm uncomfortable, because i'm not. You hugged me, i hugged back, yeah?" He waited for Kurt to nod.

"Then it's no big deal. So stop apologising and pretend like you never had your little... shall we say blip of insanity?" He smiled softly at the brunette as his eyes lost their panicked look and he seemed to nod behind his hand.

Letting his hand drop, he stepped back and kept silent, waiting for Kurt to speak.

Kurt blinked, hard at first to make sure it wasn't his imagination and then softly to try and dispel the tears that were threatening, as he realised that not only was Sam not bothered by his sudden touchy-feely-ness but that he was worried that Kurt had shied away.

"I'm sor- okay, no apologies," He smiled as Sam wagged a finger jokingly but silently, letting him continue, "It's just, for most of my teenage life most people have shied away from touching me. Well, guys anyway. Mercedes' and Tina and to some extent Rachel hug me, kiss my cheeks, but they don't count. My dad, bless him, tries his best, but he was never a cuddly person to begin with. And other guys, i even get near them and they flinch away. I mean, before we made up and became step-brothers there was a moment when Finn slapped my hand away for trying to help him get out of his Kiss make-up. So i'm not used to touching guys, and even less being touched - hugged - back."

He saw Sam's expression cloud momentarily and then settle into his unsure mask again as he asked "What about the hobbit? Didn't you get touchy feely with him?"

Blushing at Sam's unintentional innuendo he rolled his eyes and said "Sure, for the honeymoon period, he seemed great, holding my hand and kissing me, little pecks, but they soon tailed off, and then i was back to not being toughed by anyone, apart from accidental brushes past people in the corridors."

Sam was really starting to get pissed at a lot of people, particularly the guys in Glee and Finn in particular, for the way Kurt had become so afraid of others, so physically withdrawn. But first he wanted to know why Kurt had acted the same around him.

"Kurt, even with all that, what made you think i'd react in the same way? I hugged you last night, hell i slept with you next to me, curled up on my chest," He tried not to notice his adorable Kurt looked when he blushed, "and yet just then you pulled away like i had the plauge."

Kurt saw the puzzlement in his eyes and decided to be brutally honest, hoping against hope that Sam wouldn't do anything to harsh. He sat down on the couch again and then looked up at the blond.

"Because last night i was hurt, crying, a 'lost puppy' if you will. You comforted me, and i assumed it was because you thought it was the right thing to do. You tried to make me feel better, and you being there did that for some part, so you stayed there. But now, this morning, i was happier, more myself, and you weren't comforting me any more, looking after me. We were normal again and i instinctively thought that you would feel that it was different, that it wasn't needed any more, and would feel like i was coming on to you. It's what all the guys fear. That they'll 'catch the gay'." He finished his sentence with bitterness and harshness in his tone, and looked down at his hands.

Sam made a decision in that split second, one that he hoped would go well, and sat down next to Kurt, watching him carefully as he spoke softly, his words barely audible.

"I'm not worried. Been there, done that, bought the fucking t-shirt."

For a second neither of them said anything.

Kurt sat in shock, not wanting to look up, processing Sam's words and trying to figure out if they meant what he thought they did.

Sam sat on tenterhooks, watching Kurt's every movement, not that there were any but the steady rise and fall of his chest and the slight shaking of his hands.

Then, all at once, Kurt moved and it was like the spell was broken.

Raising his head, he stared into Sam's moss green eyes, noticing the pure, brutal honesty in them, the pain, and the strength it had taken to admit it. He pushed the fact that he'd never seen more beautiful eyes to the back of his mind and tried to ignore it.

As time suddenly went from painfully slow to dangerously fast Sam felt himself pulled into a hug even tighter than the one he had received as the song ended, and grew decidedly lightheaded as Kurt clung to him stroking his hair.

Then he was gone again, sat back on the cushions, and speaking.

"Sam, if you're gay, what was Quinn?" He heard the small accusation but didn't acknowledge it as he just leveled his gaze on Kurt.

"Quinn knew. She said she always had, from when we went to Breadsticks on that stupid duets win 'date'" He made quotation marks with his fingers and Kurt's flawless mouth cracked into a tiny smile.

"But i couldn't do what you do, i'm not even half as brave, so she told me that she would be my beard. She had a reputation as being a prude, apart from her... blip, last year, so us being pretty platonic wasn't an issue. We kissed in the hallways to keep the image up, and she helped me out with sorting my head out when we were alone. She's been a fucking rock, and i owe her a lot."

Kurt smiled as he remembered the way Sam had always looked fondly at Quinn, even after their supposed break up when he was supposed to be hurt and angry. He had shot her looks in Glee that had made Kurt wonder about why they had really broken up.

Smiling at the blonde, he quipped "Well, i always knew. It was the hair. No straight guy dyes his hair to look like Linda Evangelista circa 1980."

Sam laughed at Kurt's joke, even though he knew that it was his own fault for having chosen to dye his hair such a ridiculous shade of blond. But at the time it had seemed a great part of his 'making a good first/new impression' plan.

He said as much. "Hey, no knocking the hair! But yeah, i only did it so that i could be the 'new me' for the new school, and get over the drama of the last one. It was never going to be a hide your sexuality thing, but then you came along and well, the jocks in that place weren't the most friendly of people."

Both of them grimaced at his statement, remembering slushies and names that were thrown at them, but mostly at Kurt.

"So yeah, i ended up with a beard to try and fit in. It was stupid, and it couldn't last, not least for the fact that she ended up wanting to be with someone else. I couldn't stop her, and to be honest, i didn't want to. I hated being in a relationship, even a pseudo one, where i couldn't be with the person i wanted to be with." He hoped that Kurt couldn't see his blush, but he guessed that it probably couldn't be hidden.

Watching Sam as he lowered his eyes at the last part of his sentence, he instantly knew what was going on. Smiling slyly, he arched an eyebrow and said "So, who is this mystery person? I'm assuming they go to McKinley?"

Sam just blushed even harder at his question and that was all the answer Kurt needed, but he thought he'd wait for Sam to confirm it.

"Uh, yeah. I guess. But i was never gonna get them, y'know."

He raised his head and looked Kurt in the eyes, hoping that he couldn't see what he was thinking.

Kurt tilted his head again, saying "Why not, Samuel? What about them was so unobtainable?"

Sam had to laugh at the humerous glint in Kurt's eyes as he smirked at him. He couldn only focus on them for a second before he had to look away, but he saw it.

"Well, this guy? He's like, perfect. He's so beautiful, so graceful, and he doesn't even know it. He always looks good, and i've heard him sing, and it's like an angel." Sam paused to see if it was sinking in, but Kurt was just looking politely interested, so he carried on, "But he has some kind of prescence, you know? Like, he stands up to people, he holds his own even when people give him crap. Which they do, a lot. I admire him so much for that. Which is why he wouldn't want a newly-closeted case like me."

He hadn't noticed but while he was speaking he had unconsciously moved closer to Kurt on the couch, their thighs brushing as he leant towards the soprano and gazed into his eyes. His attentions were being responded to with rapt attention as Kurt got absorbed in his explanation, and the smaller boy was leaning in too without even realising.

Kurt had been busy wondering who Sam thought so worthy of his attention, and who it was that he could like so much and yet think he wasn't good enough for. He had been put off however, by the way his golden hair fell into his eyes, and his smile as he spoke of this mystery guy, and he couldn't help but admire his tanned complexion and white teeth, and the muscles in his arm when he raised it to ruffle his already gorgeous hair and...

Oh god.

He had referred to himself as a closet case. Well almost.

And if he wouldn't be wanted because he was a closet case, then it had to mean that the guy who he liked was out and proud.

And the only guy who was... no, had been... out and proud at McKinley was...

Him.

His soft gasp alerted Sam to the fact that he had finally realised where all his praise had been leading and when Sam leaned even further in and looked deeper into Kurt's eyes, touching their foreheads together and taking a breath, he felt his heartbeat stutter.

"You mean... me?" He managed to choke out, his lips merely inches from Sam's.

As Sam smiled, his dimples forming as he tried to convey 'yes' with his eyes, Kurt closed his eyes and tried not to remember anything but the heat pressed against his forehead.

His eyes flashed open again when he felt hot breath on his lips, and he saw Sam's face even closer than ever, his eyes unsure and questioning.

Without thinking he surged forwards and captured Sam's lips in a kiss.

Sam thought his brain might short circuit as he felt those soft lips, the dark, dusky pink ones that he had been dreaming about for weeks, touch tentatively to his at first, then more pressingly as he moved his mouth, taking the lead as Sam tried to recover. He felt Kurt's mouth open and then his tongue was running along the seam of Sam's lips, his hands traveling downhis chest tantalisingly slowly as he opened his mouth and their tongues entwined, slipping past each other's as his own hands somehow tangled themselves in Kurt's hair, it's silkiness only serving to make him even more ecstatic as he realised that this was real, it was happening. Then a large array of throughts blasted his mind, ranging from a repeated 'ohmygodohmygodohmygod' to a slightly more sane 'Holy fucking sweet Jesus this is real'.

After that, all he could think about was Kurt.

Feeling his lips fuse with Sam's, Kurt expected fireworks, explosions, all the cliché things they talked about in films. But he didn't feel any of that at all.

Instead, it felt perfect. Wonderful. And not explosive at all, because it felt like coming home. It felt like he was right where he should be, and he had no worries, felt that nothing could go wrong and that it was the person who was gripping his hair softly and sliding one arm around his waist that made it like that.

In short, this was what it _should_ be like. And he didn't want it to stop.

But in time they had to breathe, and Sam pulled his head back, gazing at Kurt with lidded but curious eyes, passion burning in them as he blinked away his slight film of lust.

Kurt just stared at the guy he was wrapped around and said "Wow."

Smiling, Sam just laughed, saying "Yeah. Wow."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, hopefully everyone liked that. And yes, i know that Sam isn't gay in the show, duh, but this is FF guys, and it's therefore AU and i can make him gay (because he is! He just is!). The song in there was the amazing (and very resonant) 'Save Your Heart' by Mayday Parade, and the cover art described is the actual cover art of the album, and it's very good. And of course, i don't own it -sadface-**

***Quoting 'Sahara' like a badass. It's an amazing film guys, you need to see it. And hello, Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz, who wants to pass that up?**

****Okay, this is one of my favourite scents. I don't care how odd it sounds, blown out candles smell gorgeous. XD**

**Well, there you go! Please, chuck some reviews my way? Make a procrastinating and sleepy girl happy? x**


	3. Chapter 3

**I't been ages since i last updated this and i'm sorry, i've been up to my eyes in other stuff and then i've been on holiday, but i hope you're still reading and liking!**

**This resolution chapter/epilogue is dedicated to _Dear Near Scary_, for making me see yet again how amazing these two are, and _thedaringkurtsie _for being the person to spur me into action :D**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Over and out x**

* * *

><p><em>Two Days Later, Monday, Dalton Academy.<em>

Kurt walked to the centre of the room and clapped his hands, immediately commanding the attention of the assembled Warblers. Whereas before he had been quite outgoing but also shy at times, and never at the complete forefront of things, since he had had his very public break up with Blaine it seemed to the Warblers that some sort of indescribable change had happened.

Kurt was no longer the new boy, who cared about his individuality but nonetheless wanted to fit in and get along, he was someone else entirely, someone who had a prescence that owned the hallways and corridors of the old building, that seemed to command respect and that didn't care about fitting in any longer. He seemed to have been set free, unlocked, as if something that had happened, whether it was the break up or subsequent events, had let him become the real, unapologetic Kurt Hummel.

When the chatter took longer than he wanted to dissipate he rolled his eyes and put his thumb and first finger in his mouth, letting out a piercing and shrill whistle that immediately got the attention of everyone in the room and echoed off the panelled walls.

"Thank you. Now, if you'd be so kind as to listen, I have something that needs to be said."

He looked around at the rest of the Warblers and nearly smiled at the looks of confusion on many of their faces. He doubted that they could even imagine all that had happened to him in the last three days, primarily because most of the time he had a hard time accepting it himself, but it was real. Sam had rescued him and kissed him, and had helped him make some tough decisions about his life. Which was one of the reasons he was doing what he was about to do.

"I'm not going to insult your intelligence by pretending that any of you didn't see or haven't at least _heard_ about the incident between myself and Blaine on Friday, so you shall all know mostly what this is about. I don't, and never did, want pity, although I thank those of you who have offered me your sincere condolences. However, my feelings about it remain unchanged, and no amount of pleading will alter that." He paused again and looked around, taking in the thoughtful expression of Wes, "Therefore, please listen carefully and enjoy, and please don't feel the need to tell me if I've offended or upset you. I hope I won't and please know it was never _my_ intention. So. Since this _is_ the Warblers I guess this is appropriate."

With that said he motioned for them to clear a space and then positioned himself squarely in the middle of it, before opening his mouth to sing.

_You called me up  
>You called me up too late<br>Call me the one that got away  
>You locked me down<br>Your locks were made to break  
>I'd rather die a thousand deaths anyway<em>

He infused the last line of the verse with a little more anger than he had intended, but he figured that it fit anyway. After he had spent even a few days with Sam it seemed like all his time with Blaine had been akin to sticking pins in his eyes, and he wasn't ever going to do it again. He had something perfect now, and he didn't want to be hidden and controlled and led around by anyone anymore. He could finally break free.

_I can run_  
><em>I can fly<em>  
><em>You can kiss this thing goodbye<em>  
><em>Call me out and cry about the one that got away<em>  
><em>I can stand<em>  
><em>I can fight<em>  
><em>Yeah, I'm breaking us tonight<em>  
><em>Call me out and cry about the one that got away<em>

Turning to look around at the Warblers he could see quite gleeful looks on several faces and even some of Blaine's better friends were looking like they were sympathetic, or at least, they didn't hate him for what he was doing. Because he was setting himself free and telling everyone that they had missed out. He was becoming stronger and braver and he knew then that if there were any more tears they certainly wouldn't be from him, because he'd got everything he'd ever wanted.

_The bed you made_  
><em>Was never meant for me<em>  
><em>You never tried to take my breath away<em>  
><em>You lost anyway<em>

Looking back on all Blaine's comments, his little presents and the ways he had tried to control him, Kurt knew that he hadn't even really felt anything then. His breath was never in danger from the boy who spent half their time together flirting with other people. And that was why he had lost Kurt, Kurt's heart, to someone else. Someone infinitely better. To Sam, who seemed to be everything Kurt had ever dreamed of and who had helped him prepare for what he was doing.

_I can run_  
><em>I can fly<em>  
><em>You can kiss this thing goodbye<em>  
><em>Call me out and cry about the one that got away<em>  
><em>I can stand<em>  
><em>I can fight<em>  
><em>Yeah, I'm breaking us tonight<em>  
><em>Call me out and cry about the one that got away<em>

His voice hitting all the right notes, even the higher ones, perfectly, he smiled to himself, letting himself get lost in the song. It was about letting his anger and his frustration, and telling everybody that there was a new Kurt Hummel and that he was making a stand. However, as he closed his eyes on the other boys' faces, it was also about the passion, and the joy of a new beginning, and of better things to come.

_I was at my best, believed in you_  
><em>That was my worst mistake<em>  
><em>So obsessive, too possessive<em>  
><em>You'll never change<em>

It was as he opened his eyes at the end of that verse, having relished his anger in it perhaps more than in the chorus, the he realised that Blaine had come into the room during the time they'd been shut. The older boy was standing in the doorway with a distraught look on his face, tears sparkling in his eyes, and there was a faint shadow on his face as if he'd forgotten to shave. But Kurt wasn't fooled by any of it. He remembered the possessiveness, the way he had always run him round in circles to do what _Blaine _had wanted all the time, and in his eyes, through the almost certainly fake tears, he could see the real Blaine, and the fact that his appearance and emotions were a carefully cultivated mask, and one that couldn't make him believe it was real. Not that he'd take him back even if it was.

_I can run  
>I can fly<br>You can kiss this thing goodbye  
>Take these words I've never heard<br>There's nothing left to say  
>I can stand<br>I can fight  
>Yeah, I'm breaking us tonight<br>Call me out and cry about the one that got away_

He smirked slightly as he neared the end of his song, knowing that Blaine was there to hear his final salute, before it morphed into a proper smile, the corners of his mouth tugging high up as he revelled in his freedom and the feelings of happiness that had radiated through him during the whole weekend with Sam. There was really nothing left to say, and he didn't care, because he had moved on. He was cutting loose.

_I can run_  
><em>I can fly<em>  
><em>You can kiss this thing goodbye<em>  
><em>Call me out and cry about the one that got away<em>  
><em>Call me out and cry about the one that got away<em>

Closing his eyes as he finished on a delicate note, he sighed and smiled even more, before opening his eyes and looking around at his audience, most of whom were clapping, slow at first and then speeding up as the time went on. He mock bowed and a few people laughed, and then he felt a hand settle gently on his arm and looked up to see Wes standing beside him.

"That was what I think it was, wasn't it?"

Laughing a little at the Warbler's convoluted question he nodded, saying "Yeah, it was. And I want you all to know," He turned to the room at large and raised his voice, "That none of the harshness in that song was meant for you as a whole. I just wanted you to hear the chorus really, and know that I'm happy with what I'm doing. I want the chance to fly, even though I won't forget any of you."

A few more people seemed to grasp what he was saying to them and he heard some gasp and shake their heads looking upset, but the majority still looked slightly confused, so he hugged Wes, smiling at him, before he turned back and said "I'm leaving the Warblers. In fact, I'm leaving Dalton. I've loved being here with you and you've all made me feel so welcome, I've made such good friends, but I know when it's time for me to go, and this is it."

He looked around sadly at all the people who he'd come to love in the past few weeks and couldn't help feeling upset to be leaving, but as he was about to smile again and start to hug them all, letting them know he would miss them, a voice spoke up.

"Kurt, please, don't go! We can work things out, honestly, please just let me explain, you don't have to leave!"

Blaine was pushing forwards, making a gap in the crowd of Warblers who had begun to converge on Kurt as he had walked towards them, and looking at Kurt with puppy dog eyes that he supposed were supposed to break him down and convince him that he had made a mistake, made the wrong decision. Unfortunately for Blaine, he knew he hadn't.

He made his face more solemn as he said "Blaine, I'm going, and you can't change that. I thought you would have got the message pretty clear on Friday when I told you that we were over, but apparently you didn't. We broke up, and I don't want to get back together with you. At all. You never treated me well and you flirted with other people in front of me. It had to happen.

Apparently Blaine still wanted to try as he started to plead with him.

"Kurt, you know I still love you, I never really liked anyone else, none of it meant anything! I can't be without you, you can't leave and go back to that place, you aren't safe, we need you here."

Rolling his eyes Kurt approached a little closer to his ex-boyfriend and, waving off a concerned David, said "Blaine, enough! It's over, and I'm going, and you begging like this just makes you seem pathetic. I can see right through your little caring act, and I don't like it one bit. Stop pretending."

That was enough to get the dapper Warbler riled up as he snapped "Oh yeah, so what are you going to do when you go back to McKinley and carry on getting bullied and terrified and thrown in dumpsters? Who's going to protect you there? You can't get what you have here, no one is going to step into my shoes." He taunted, his eyes flashing at Kurt.

Kurt refused to take the bait and just calmly stated "Don't worry about that. There's someone more than willing to step into your shoes. And believe me, you aren't a tough act to follow, but he's a thousand times better than you. So don't worry your little head about that! Go back to preening and gushing over your solos."

At that Blaine looked mock hurt and turned to the Warblers for support, trying to get them to back him up. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to want to come to his rescue, and a few were even openly sniggering at the tongue lashing he was getting from Kurt.

His eyes flashed once again as he spat "Oh yeah, and where is he? _Who_ is he? This mysterious guy who you've conjured from thin air in the last two days?"

Just as Kurt was glaring at Blaine and the Warblers were starting to get concerned, a voice spoke from the back of the room right by the door.

"Me."

Sam pushed off the door frame he had been leaning on ever since he had entered the room, behind Blaine and wanting so much to hit him, and sauntered to the centre of the room, the cluster of boys on Dalton uniforms in front of him staring at him in shock and then moving quickly out of the way.

He could see the equally shocked look on Kurt's face and smiled at the picture he made with his mouth popped open just a bit, Sam didn't think he'd ever see anything cuter. However, the fact that he had had to skip school to come and watch Kurt carry out his plan was more than made up for by the fact that Blaine was standing with his whole jaw dropped, a look that was a mix of shock and hatred filling his eyes.

"You?"

Kurt couldn't really believe what was happening, and he was about 90% sure that he must be imagining it.

Because there was no way Sam had skipped school, which he would have had to do to be at Dalton in the middle of the day, just to come and see him. He was pretty positive he had had some sort of hallunication..

Sam just smiled at an incredulous looking Kurt and then walked up to Blaine, towering over him, and said "Yes, me. He's finally got someone who will protect him and take care of him and trust, and who he can have a proper relationship with. And who will love him. So I'd suggest you stop your whining and accept that you aren't getting him back."

Maybe he was 60% sure then. Because that sure had sounded a lot like Sam. And Blaine was reacting like he should have been doing, first anger and then shock and then a sly smile creeping onto his lips.

Sam seethed as he saw that small smile sneak onto the stupid hobbit's lips.

"Oh, I get it. How much did he pay you to come here and say that? Or is he blackmailing you? What's he got on you?"

That made Sam see red, and suddenly he was completely invading Blaine's personal space, pushing up to him until they were only inches apart and it was easy for Sam to reach out and poke Blaine's chest with his finger, hard, as he spoke.

"Kurt didn't pay me or blackmail me to say that, because he didn't need to. It's the truth. And a word to the wise, Dapper McGreasyhead? _Don't_ insult Kurt's integrity like that again, because he's the kind of person who would never do that!"

Okay, so Kurt was thinking like, 30% sure it wasn't real? But he couldn't help but admire Sam as he advanced on Blaine, because really, he was going to want to hit the douche soon. His feelings for the blonde multiplied even more as he defended him.

But Blaine wasn't done.

"Oh yeah? Prove it!"

Well that one was easy.

Sam leaned over, grasped Kurt's arm and pulled him close to him, so that their chests touched as he slid a hand aorund the back of his head and drew him into an amazingly passionate kiss, one that Kurt could swear he felt all the way down to his toes. Okay, so he was 100% sure it was real.

He felt himself being leaned backwards and Kurt's eyes popped open for a second as Sam's hand slipped down to the small of his back, holding him up as they kissed. It was just as amazing as that very first time, even though they had kissed since, and it was still perfect, still jaw-droppingly amazing, still like home and warmness and utter bliss.

When they finally broke apart it felt like the whole room was staring at them, and they slowly blinked back into reality to find Blaine looking like someone had slapped him (hopefully hard), Wes smiling widely at them and someone in the back whooping.

As more and more people started to cheer or wolf whistle, Sam grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled him to the doorway as he waved happily to people and blushed like crazy.

And as they were running hand in hand down the same corridor Kurt had been walking down away from Blaine just three days before, he felt better than he had in years.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Aww, i love them so much! Anyways, i hope you liked this, and song credits go to Hey Monday for 'The One That Got Away', great song!**

**Let me know what you think? x**


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